


Tresses as Black as Night and as Golden as the Sun

by Sargerogue



Series: The Line of Wanderers [6]
Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-30
Updated: 2018-09-26
Packaged: 2019-06-18 14:13:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 10,928
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15487632
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sargerogue/pseuds/Sargerogue
Summary: Companion piece to the series. Fíli's point of view at different times throughout the journey.





	1. 4-26-2941, Hobbiton

**Author's Note:**

> Usual Disclaimer. 
> 
> The reason I didn't include these bits in the other main stories was because Fíli's voice wanted it all to be told from his view in these times.

The trip from Ered Luin to the Shire was a relatively short one for the Princes of Durin's Folk. Kíli was excited to be out doing something other than providing guard on a trade caravan. He was also excited to see the land that had raised their mother’s best friend, Mistress Brynye Took. He could vaguely remember her from his youth, having been only thirteen when she left, but he remembered her cookies and the stories she told of rolling green hills and homes carved into hillsides and made out of wood instead of stone. He had thought the idea fascinating and was looking forward to seeing it firsthand.

On the other hand, Fíli was looking forward to not dealing with the Council of Lords once a week in place of his uncle. Though his mother was often regent when Thorin was absent from the mountain, more and more the lords were turning to him as he aged. Fíli the Golden, the Crown Prince. Mahal did he hate the attention they gave him. It was easier to deal with Balin or Thorin than the Council of Lords.

“Up there,” Kíli said breaking Fíli’s thoughts. His brother pointed to the glowing mark on a green door up the path they walked. The two brothers let themselves into the yard and stood in front of the door. Fíli knocked for them, only belatedly realizing that there was a bell beside the door, and shifted his footing. This Mister Baggins had better be a good burglar or their uncle was going to complain all the way to the mountain.

The door opened to a woman standing there. The very edges of her dark hair were visible from under her hair covering. Her eyes caught him, dragging him into those emerald orbs. He hadn’t seen that color on a person before, but they were beautiful. She wasn’t that much shorter than himself, a respectable dwarf sized woman despite the slight point to her ears, barely noticeable really. She had a muscular frame under the clothes she was wearing, and he would bet his mustache braids that she disliked that outfit. It was wrinkled but nearly new. She looked like his mother the time Balin had convinced her to wear a formal dress to an event after a year of wearing pants and a blouse.

From inside him, he felt a click and a growing warmth inside his chest. A hole in his heart filled, one he didn’t know he had.

Kíli nudged him in the gut and cleared his throat. Fíli shook himself out of the daydream and said, “Fíli.”

“And Kíli,” his brother echoed.

“At your service.” His bow was deep, and he brought his eyes back up to watch her. He wanted to know her name, to know everything he could.

“We’re looking for a Mister Boggins. Didn’t know he had a wife,” Kíli commented. Blast Kíli and his lack of a filter. Fíli stomped on his brother’s foot and received a glare in return. Internally, Fíli hoped she wasn’t a wife already.

“I believe you’re looking for my cousin Bilbo Baggins, Master Kíli,” she said, putting the stress on Baggins as she spoke. “The notion of my cousin being married is laughable, confirmed bachelor that one.” Thank the Lord and Lady, Fíli thought. “I am Freye Took at your service, Princes of Erebor.”

Fíli looked at his brother with a raised eyebrow. What would a hobbit woman know about dwarfish politics? He would have to ask later. She invited them in and instructed them where to put their things. She asked them to help Dwalin and Balin –good they weren’t the first ones here—with moving furniture.

“Of course. Thank you Mistress Took,” he said, his head bowing slightly. He held her gaze longer than proper, his blue eyes gazing into those emerald ones and his face quirked in a soft smile.

Beside him, Kíli let out a little huff and went to put his things down. Freye ducked her head and left them alone. Fíli joined his brother and put his things down neatly.

“Got a crush, brother?” he asked.

“Oh, shut up,” Fíli muttered. He turned back toward where the dark-haired woman had walked off.

“Fíli, we are going on a quest. I don’t think courting the cousin of our burglar would help at the moment,” Kíli said. “Especially a quest we might not come back from.”

“I said shut up Kíli.” Fíli left to find Dwalin and Balin instead of getting upset by his little brother.

Dinner went along pretty well once the rest of the Company, minus his uncle, had arrived. Dwalin was watching Freye as she moved about the house, but his eyes were more like that of his uncle when Kíli had done something and he was trying to figure out what. Fíli watched her as well, smiling at her throughout the night when he caught her gaze on him.

Then came the little show with the plates. He smiled as he bounced the plates and cups off his body and tossed them down to Kíli or into the kitchen to Bifur. He caught Freye watching him with an amused smile on her face and put a little more flare into his antics. Her cousin wasn’t appreciating it but Fíli didn’t care at the moment. All he wanted to see was more smiles coming from the beautiful woman.

Thorin’s arrival ruined his mood for a while. Thorin started off by insulting their burglar and calling him a grocer. He could see the frustration on Freye’s face when she passed by to get food for his uncle. She served it properly though and made no mention of Thorin’s words.

It was quick enough, the talk, even with the interruption of the hobbit throwing an apple at someone lurking outside. Fíli had been rather impressed with the hobbit’s aim and was slightly terrified of hobbits after learning that their aim was the reason for the lack of small creatures in the Shire. He also wanted to see what would happen if he put a throwing knife in the hobbit’s hand or gave him a chance at a bow. That led to him wondering about Freye with a weapon. Every time he looked at her though, all he could see were swords in her strong hands, or perhaps an axe. What would she be like with a weapon, he asked himself.

As it was, he was in the bath soaking in the hot water. There were two baths in the smial and his brother was using one of them at the moment. They had gone in some order of importance, Thorin going first followed by Balin and Dwalin. Everyone knew the reason Balin and Dwalin got to go next was their age and their dear position as advisor and guard to the king. Fíli and Kíli had gone next. Fíli had given Kíli first pick after Balin had come out of the bath. Freye had prepared the baths, working the plumbing that was different than what the dwarrows used. She had also found soaps and towels for them to use to spare their supplies.

He washed his hair and redid his braids. He could imagine strong hands weaving his braids, a soft laugh as he reached toward her to do the same. He could see her black tresses in his hand, likely soft and silky to the touch. He wondered if they curled or if they were straight. He wondered how long her hair was and what braids would look like in her hair. What would his braids look like?

Mahal’s Beard he was smitten already.

Glóin pounded on the door and told him that others wanted to bathe before bed.

“Just finishing my braids!” Fíli called. That was true. He was finishing his hair braids and would do his mustache braids when he got out. He climbed out and found the drain. He had several days of muck on his skin and the water had turned a light brown. Glóin, who had traveled in the Shire before near the borders, would know how to put fresh water in and he had heard Dwalin remarking that he would see to the water heat while Mistress Freye gathered blankets for the dwarrows.

His travel clothes were drying beside Thorin’s and Dwalin’s on a rack Freye had put in the room. His shirt was nearly dry, as were his other things, so he took them off the rack once he was dressed in other clothes and finished his mustache braids. He noticed a tear in his shirt and cursed. Probably when his brother jumped on him this morning, he mused.

He let Glóin in and dropped his clothes off in the room he would share with Kíli. The bed was just big enough for the two of them, and they were used to sharing a bed since childhood. It was a small blessing that they would not pass up either way. Kíli raised an eyebrow as his brother walked back toward the door with his torn shirt.

“I have a sewing kit,” Kíli offered.

“I’d prefer to save that for on the road,” Fíli answered.

“Right. You’re going to use that excuse.” Fíli answered his brother with several hand signals that would have had his mother boxing his ears.

Fíli spotted Freye as she headed from a store room toward the den where the other members of the Company were setting up shop with arms laden with blankets. He cleared his throat and she paused.

“Yes, Master Fíli?” she asked. Valar above, her eyes sparkled as she talked.

“Please, just Fíli,” he insisted. He never enjoyed being called Master or Prince, he was just Fíli. “I was hoping you might have some thread and a needle.” He showed her the tunic and the rip down the side. “After that lovely bath you drew for us,” --Oh Mahal, did he seriously just say that? -- “I noticed this tear in my tunic. I was hoping to fix it before we left. Don’t want to dip into the Company supplies just yet.” Yes, that was his explanation and he was sticking to it and nothing anyone else said would change his opinion.

“I can have it fixed for you before you leave in the morning,” Freye offered. She seamlessly handed the blankets in her arms to a passing Bifur who bowed his head and gave her a one-armed hand signal thanking her. She smiled as Bifur left and took the tunic from him. She inspected the tear with a critical eye. “I don’t have quite the right color of thread, but I can stitch it all the same.”

Fíli’s heart did a somersault and he said, “I would never ask-.”

“I’m offering,” she cut in. She was sincere in her offer, her eyes said it all. “Go rest. I’ll leave it just inside the door to your room when I’m done or give it to you in the morning. Just leave the door cracked so if I do finish it early I can drop it off.” Her smile warmed him.

“Then thank you.” He nervously scratched the back of his neck as he stepped back. He was like a nervous dwarfling all over again. He backed into Dwalin who laughed softly and sent him along to bed.

Bed didn’t help. His mind just replayed any conversation they had had that night or just the bits that he had heard her say. Her voice was golden to his ears.

Next to him, Kíli swore he could hear his brother thinking too loud and hit him over the head with a pillow before telling him to go to bed. Fíli wisely did as he was told.

The next morning was upon them too soon. The shirt was not inside the room, but when Fíli came out with his pack and weapons, he found Freye laying out an easy to eat on the go breakfast spread and his shirt was folded up on the countertop. She caught sight of him in the doorway and handed over his shirt. His eyes picked up the silver stitching and if it weren’t for the feel he would have sworn it was actual silver.

“My godfather once told me silver is meant to protect. I hope this gives you some bit of protect. The symbols are an archaic form of Hobbitish, our lost language. They are wards against danger,” she explained.

“Thank you. This is beautiful,” he said with fingers running over the design. He stowed it in his pack and accepted the food she offered. They were on their way shortly after.

When Bilbo ran after them, he hoped to see Freye alongside him but was also glad she was not. Fíli was happy to pick Bilbo up and help him onto a pony though. He also promised himself to watch out over the hobbit. It would do him no favors if he could have saved his One’s cousin on the trip. His One, was she really? Some core piece of him, rooted in the stone that Mahal had forged him from, rang out in truth.

“Oh blast, I forgot my handkerchiefs,” Bilbo grumbled.

“Not quite,” a voice called from ahead. Fíli caught the bundle his uncle tossed back to him and handed it to Bilbo. They were handkerchiefs, tied with twine and with the embroidered BB on the corner. Thorin explained, “Your cousin had a hunch. She instructed me to see those to you.”

“And what if I hadn’t come?” Bilbo questioned.

“If you hadn’t met us by Bree, I would have sent them back,” Thorin replied. “Keep up Master Burglar.” Fíli shook his head at his uncle, the way he said Master Burglar it was almost like teasing him. He would have to convince his uncle to lighten up if he wanted any chance at wooing the hobbit’s cousin in the future.


	2. Past Bree

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fíli gets a chance to ask some questions.

They were past Bree when Fíli felt comfortable enough to ask Bilbo about life in the Shire. Soon he, Ori, and Kíli were learning about the mischief a faunt would get up to, particularly with out running the dogs on the Maggot Farm. Ori had stumbled over the fact that the Thain, one of the few leadership roles in the Shire, was related to Bilbo. It had taken some time and a crudely drawn out family tree to illustrate the family connections. When Ori realized the number of children Old Took had sired, he squeaked.

“Bah, Bombur’s got more than that,” Bofur laughed.

“Aye, but some of mine are adopted as well,” Bombur said. “I think my wife would kill me if she had fourteen by birth. As it is, nine by birth has convinced her she doesn’t want any more for a few years.”

“You’re an oddity,” Glóin grumbled. “Not right a dwarf having that many kids. Must be that little wife of yours.”

“Aye, unique as can be my Cass,” Bombur mused.

“Bombur’s got the largest family in the history of the dwarrows from what records can tell us,” Ori explained. “The most a normal family has is three children and that is pressing luck. Larger families tend to be in the royal lines, stronger than a normal dwarf you see.”

“Bit like how it is in the Shire. The families with the most kids are typically the Tooks or the Brandybucks. The Baggins family has typically only had three children. I’m quite the oddity at being a single child,” Bilbo explained.

“Did your parents not want more?” Glóin asked. His brother hit him for that.

“Oh, they did. You saw how big Bag End was. It was meant to have a horde of children, large enough that it could expand back into the hill even. You see, my mother was an adventurous type. It caused quite the fuss when the wild Belladonna Took married the bookkeeping landlord Bungo Baggins. They wanted to have plenty of children, Mum went as far as to declare she would beat her father’s record.

“A few years after I was born, just about the time she was planning to have another child, the Thain asked her to go on some business for the Shire. Mum had a good relationship with the elves of Rivendell, second to only her father, but Old Took was getting too old to make such trips. You see, we provided some of the food they could not grow and in return they gave us new seeds to try, added protection when the Ranger patrols were down, and warning if the actions of orcs or goblins became too severe. Mum was to go with one of the returning trade caravans and barter for some of Rivendell’s healing supplies and perhaps a healer for a few months. At the time there was a nasty bug going around, not fatal to most but it would take a person out for nearly a month. Our healers were clueless.

“The caravan had nearly reached Rivendell when they were set upon by orcs. Mum did well to fend them off but one of the wargs got past an elf and caught her around the middle. She could never have children after that. The Lord of Rivendell had said it was a miracle she survived. She stayed there over the winter that year and returned in the spring. We haven’t sent a hobbit out of the Shire since. They always come to us now.” Bilbo looked a little sad at that. “Farthest a hobbit will go is Bree nowadays.”

“Sorry about your mum,” Ori said. “If it makes you feel better, I never knew mine. Dori and Nori had to raise me after she died.” Bilbo frowned and gave the lad a hug.

“I wish I knew my father,” Kíli said softly. Bilbo looked at him and the lad swallowed. “Killed by orcs. He was never recovered.” Fíli reached over and clasped his shoulder.

“I suppose it’s a blessing that most hobbits do not experience such violence in their lives. Think the only family that does is the a branch of the Tooks, Freye's in fact. You know, they fought through the snowstorms of the Fell Winter to get to Hobbiton with supplies? Freye was only twenty-nine at the time! They dragged sleds from Bree to Hobbiton, took them days. When they got there, the wolves had crossed the Water.”

“What happened?” Ori asked. He had his book on his lap and his charcoal piece ready.

“Well, as I recall and Freye told me, her mother, father, and grandmother were all out with the Bounders near the Water where the wolves were crossing. A lone one had made it past the line and entered Hobbiton earlier, no one knew until it was stalking prey. A runner went from one house to the next all the way up to Bag End, that way no one was outside too long. Finally reached us and they thought Mum would have a sword, she had a long knife but that wouldn’t have done anything to that wolf without getting hurt herself.

“So Freye, exhausted from hauling that sled, took her own sword. You see, her grandmother is a smith, a fine good one in Bree in fact. Her father was one too. I think she was using his sword that day, it was a short sword and that was his favorite. She heard the screams coming from a smial down the hill and lured the beast out. She said she killed it with one strike, as thin and weak as the thing was. Also said that it could have been killed by a good iron skillet if the hobbitess in the house had a chance to get one. Mum skinned the wolf for the pelt and Dad gave the meat to a neighbor that needed it,” Bilbo explained.

“I did not think Hobbits used weapons,” Balin voiced.

“Normally don’t, unless you’re a Took or a Brandybuck or one of the Bounders and even most of them use clubs. Freye’s family is a little different. They’ve lived Bree for a long time and they’ve had many tragedies befall them. Freye lost both her parents before she came to her majority,” Bilbo told him. Dwalin cleared his throat and looked pointedly at Thorin who winced. Bilbo shook off the action after a minute.

“Master Baggins can I ask a question?” Ori asked.

“Of course, and please Ori, it’s just Bilbo.”

“Where do Hobbits come from? Who is your Valar?”

“Ori,” his eldest brother gasped. “You can’t just ask that type of stuff.”

“It’s quite all right Master Dori,” Bilbo reassured. “As it is, I don’t know the story proper Ori. That would be a job for Freye. We are considered children of Yavanna, though there are some that say we came from Men. To that I offer our pointed ears and hairy feet, but no one listens. You see, we lost most of our history during our wandering days.”

“Wandering days?” Kíli asked.

“Yes. Hobbits come from over the Misty Mountains actually. For some reason we were driven from our homeland all those years ago. In our homeland, the eldest form of Hobbitish was corrupted with the language of the Éothéod. That mixed with Westron when we wandered and now almost all Hobbits have lost our original language. Freye would know it though. The Noakes Family was one of the Teller families; they recite our histories, know the old tongue, and have a connection with the earth and healing that nothing short of an elf can beat.”

“Fascinating. I will have to write your cousin when this is all over,” Ori murmured. Bilbo chuckled at the mention and Ori was swept off to check the horses with his brother while Thorin sent Kíli and Nori to check the perimeter as they were the quietest next to Bilbo.

Fíli cleared his throat and looked at Bilbo. The others had left the pair alone now and Fíli had a question he wished to ask.

“Can you tell me about Freye?” he asked. Bilbo turned to look at him with a raised eyebrow. “I didn’t get to talk with her much. She was very generous; she even stitched my shirt.”

“More than that. Those runes I know, she stitched a similar set in one of the waistcoats she sent with me. She wishes for your safety and victory among other things,” Bilbo said with a grin. “What do you wish to know?”

“What’s she like?”

“Well, she’s about the bravest of my cousins and that includes the last numpty to run off alongside Gandalf. She’s fiercely loyal and has a heart as big as the Shire. One of the best Tooks with a bow and she can wrestle any of us to the ground. She’s well learned and skilled. She followed her grandmother in trade.”

“What does she like to read?” he asked.

“Curious aren’t you? Well, most of the time she reads history books of other races. My father had books on Elves, Dwarrows, and Men. When she’s not reading those, she reads what adventure novels she can find. Her favorites are ones with a good fight in them and a strong woman. She also enjoys any book on healing and magic,” Bilbo explained. Fíli started plotting in his head. He could find some book in Erebor, he was sure of it, that would appeal to her. It would be a good gift certainly.

“What else?”

Bilbo sat with Fíli answering questions throughout the night. By the time Bilbo had exhausted Fíli’s questions, Bilbo had a good idea why he was asking. If the growing smirk on his brother’s face was anything to go by, the dwarf was being nearly transparent in his intentions. He’d have to see that the Prince found his way back to Bree or the Shire in the end. It would be a true shame if Fíli lost his chance to pursue such a love.


	3. 5-25-2941; Trollshaws

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fíli's point of view during the events in the Trollshaws.

Admittedly, trolls were an unexpected sight on their journey. Fíli had already determined that this quest must have a jinx on it after one of their horses startled while crossing the river and Ori took a dive. Bilbo had followed when his horse had bucked him and the Princes of Durin were the closest to the pair to drag them back out. It was a cold and wet night. Dori and Nori discovered Ori had a tattoo of a quill on his shoulder. Dori was not impressed. Nori was, he wanted to know how Ori had gotten away from Dori long enough to get the ink. Dwalin was scarce the rest of the night even though Ori never explained it was him that convinced Dori to let him train the lad a few years back when he was visiting Ered Luin. So, for Fíli, the trolls were just another layer in a disaster cake.

He had managed to get to the camp and was returning with the others when he heard a woman shout, “Run Bilbo!” He knew that tone. He sped up as quick as he could but Thorin was beating him.

“I said you’ll not touch her,” Kíli said as he stood before the fallen woman. Fíli could just see him as the trolls shouted to grab him and Freye let loose an arrow into the troll’s eye.

Thorin leapt out of the brush and struck, Fíli a step behind. He glanced back after stabbing a troll foot to see Kíli pull Freye out of harms way. Arrows whizzed past the Company as she shot from behind the tree. Fíli was distracted by the pained shout of his brother when he saw a troll snatch her up. Another troll grabbed her by two limbs and they pulled her taught. Her scream froze the battle.

“Freye!” His voice came out strained. He lunged toward the troll only to have his uncle pull him back. He locked eyes with her, hoping to convey strength.

“Lay down your arms or we’ll rip hers off,” the troll declared.

“I’m not worth it,” Freye insisted. Oh, how wrong she was. If he lost her now, before he could learn more about her, he would never forgive himself. “Please, do not do it.” If he was a lesser man, he would have listened to the pleas and those begging eyes. Then the trolls pulled her tighter and she screamed. He could see the branch move in her leg.

Thorin threw down his sword and his nephews followed without a moment’s hesitation. Fíli watched her every breath, timing them, and swallowing as she hung her head.

They held her as a threat and forced them all to strip to just their smallclothes. Half of them were bound and bagged while the others were put on the spit. Fíli growled in his spot. Most of his knives were in his other clothes and there was one in his hair. He did have one strapped to his back, but he couldn’t reach it with his hands tied.

He watched as the trolls tied Freye to a tree and put a pan under her leg. It took a moment for him realize that they were going to bleed her dry and the troll confirmed it by talking about making a good sauce. When one of them brought up jerky, Fíli’s control snapped.

“Don’t you touch her!” He squirmed, trying to get his bonds loose. “You touch her, I’ll kill you with my bare hands!”

“Fíli be quiet.” Freye’s words were soft but strained. Her head listed to one side, resting on her shoulder. He wondered how much blood she had already lost. How much time did he have? One of the trolls, clearly annoyed with Fíli’s behavior, threw him into a tree beside Freye. His back let out a pop as he hit the wood and he groaned at the ache already developing. After a moment spent curling up on his side, he regained his breath and slowly slinked his way to her side. He planted his bound hands in the ground and pushed up, jumping up high enough he was able to reach her legs in the pan and put his bound hands over the wound. He worked on turning his hands enough to grab the wound and hissed at the burning of rope on his wrists. “Fíli.”

“I’m okay,” he promised. He readjusted his hand and told her, “I’m sorry,” before wrapping his fingers around her leg through the bag. The pained noise she made was like a stake to his heart.

He tuned out the trolls, the dwarrows, and even Bilbo when he appeared. If he could keep the pressure long enough that Bilbo could wiggle his way out of this for them all, she would have a chance.

“Help your cousin. She’s injured,” Thorin called from behind him. Bilbo was suddenly there, knife slicing through the bonds holding her. Freye’s hands reached under Fíli's to take over putting pressure on. He heaved himself to the side and called to the hobbit. His bag was cut open and his arms and legs released.

“We need to stop the bleeding. Óin!” the prince barked. It took a moment for Óin to arrive and he used a small knife he’d grabbed from his things to cut the pantleg apart. Fíli followed his orders, laying Freye down so her heart was lower than the wound.

Kíli appeared beside them, carrying Fíli’s clothes, and dropped them next to his brother. Óin held out the blade to Kíli and instructed him to heat it. Fíli’s stomach turned at the thought and he tightened his grip on Freye’s hand and put one hand on her shoulder. Thorin instructed company members to pin her and Fíli followed his orders. Freye’s eyes locked onto his, worry and pain ebbing their way into her gaze. When it came time for a bit to bite down on, he pulled the sheathed knife that hung down his back. He offered her the sheath to bite into. The trust in her eyes pierced him in the heart.

“Count of three lass,” he heard Óin say.

If he could go without ever hearing screams like that again, he would die a happy dwarf. Kíli was suddenly beside him, putting more weight against the fighting woman. He bent low, head by hers, and talked softly. Bilbo did the same on the other side. After a few moments, Óin pulled the blade away and ordered him to take her back to their camp.

“Put your arms around my neck,” Fíli said. She did, locking fingers to keep from letting go. Her whimper came out around the sheath before she let it go and Kíli grabbed it before it could fall. Fíli was gentle with his steps as he walked, soft words still flowing. Bilbo followed behind him with her things. Thorin had waved him off when he went to pick of Fíli’s things knowing the hobbit would tip over with the weight of his nephew’s many blades.

The two new horses at their campsite and the strange dwarrowdam crouched by their fire stilled his feet. Freye looked where he did and said, “Sigin’amad.” Grandmother in Khuzdul. She knew Khuzdul.

“Oh dear. Lay her down.” The older dwarrowdam pulled a bedroll nearer to the fire and guided Fíli in setting her down. “First one always hurts the worst, dear.”

“I believe you stole that line from Master Fundin,” his uncle said as he entered the clearing holding Fíli’s things. “Brynye.” Fíli knew that name. He looked at the dwarrowdam and saw the face that had graced their home for tea many a time. Freye had called her Sigin’amad. Freye was a dwarf! Well, at least mostly one. That explained a number of things at least.

“Thorin,” the older woman acknowledged. Kíli stumbled into the clearing and paused at the sight of Brynye but she motioned them over with a hum. “Hand them over lad. Best get started before your healer arrives. Sooner this is bandaged the better.” Fíli, quite frankly, agreed. He shifted to sitting behind Freye, one leg bent up to hook his arm with and forming a softer chair than the ground would have provided. He felt her fingers wrap around a chunk of his shirt, her head turning to hide in his neck. He bumped his head against hers and wrapped his other arm around her.

“It’ll be fine,” he murmured. “Best healers in the West are treating you. Heard all about your sigin’amad growing up.”

“Still hurts.” He nodded in agreement and tightened his hold a bit when she stiffened. Óin and Brynye were working on the wound together. They hit a particularly sensitive spot and Freye let out a keening whine and buried her face in Fíli’s chest. He tightened his hold again, her hand coming up to wrap around his arm and hold it firm.

The healers finished soon after and Fíli relaxed his grip slightly and leaned back a bit. He bumped up against his brother who looked more serious than Fíli had ever seen him. Thorin sat on the other side of Kíli and watched the events unfold.

The other Company members settled down. Ori, tired of the quiet, said, “I’m confused.” Thorin snorted softly and Brynye rolled her eyes at the dwarf king. Thorin took the waterskin that had been laying by Kíli’s pack – Brynye had stolen Kíli’s bedroll it seemed – and held it out to Freye.

“Drink all of it. You’ve lost a lot of blood.” She nodded and started sipping on it.

Balin’s announcement of Brynye’s name caught the attention of most of the Company. The elder dwarrows greeted each other, even Dwalin came over to greet Brynye. Fíli was too busy shifting so he eased Freye’s discomfort. Bilbo poking fun at his cousin’s frantic actions the day in Bag End had her trying to squirm out of Fíli’s reach to slap her cousin’s arm from where the hobbit sat beside them. Kíli shot a grin at Bilbo and laughed softly.

Things were explained soon enough. Thorin ordered Fíli and Kíli to check on the ponies again. Fíli eased out from behind Freye, Bilbo supporting her as he moved.

When he returned, she had been moved to the darker side of the camp where the shadows still gave the illusion of early morning. Fíli spread his bedroll out and gave it to Kíli. Kíli tried to protest but Fíli shook him off. There were some small amounts of blood on the roll, he would clean it before his brother could lay on it and get the stain on his clothing. Thorin motioned Fíli toward his own bedroll and he gave his uncle a grateful nod before laying it down beside Kíli’s roll. He pulled his brother close, arm over his chest.

“We never split up again,” the blond whispered. “I can’t lose you.”

“You won’t Fíli, promise.” Kíli gave his brother’s arm a squeeze before drifting off to sleep.

Fíli was short to follow him, exhausted from the night’s events. He would see to things later, after he slept.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I'm leaving this open for additional chapters for the moment. I hadn't planned on it but I think the plot bunnies are going to demand some more from Fíli's point of view.


	4. 5-29-2941, Rivendell

Fíli had begun to doubt the quest, he really had. First the bad weather at the beginning of the quest, then the trolls, and finally orcs. When he listened to stories from his uncle and Dwalin they did not speak of so many perils on a single trip. Even the protection details that Fíli had been on had not been this hazardous. He was quite tired of all this misfortune.

Which meant, after dinner, he was certainly looking forward to a hot bath. Elves, it seemed, were similar enough to dwarrows that they had both private and communal baths. Their system seemed to be broken up by halls. The Company, paranoid as they were, insisted on going to the communal bath together. The bath was more like a pool and lacked the fountain that was staple of any dwarfish bath but they would take what they could get at this point.

"Looks like the lasses beat us to the water," Bofur said from in front of him. The miner stepped into the bath and worked on his braids, exposing both Fíli and Kíli to the glances of the dwarrowdams. Fíli felt his cheeks burn as bright as a forge. He adjusted where he was holding his towel and hurried to the far side of the bath. He tossed the towel backwards just as he jumped in. Kíli did the same, coming up next to his brother and turning his back to the ladies at the other end of the pool.

"Should have done a private one," Kíli muttered.

"It's not like we haven't shared a bath before," Fíli countered.

"Yeah with Amad or Gimris. And you're one to talk! You're redder than me! Afraid she won't like what she sees?"

Fíli grabbed his brother and dove under the water with him. He tickled Kíli's sensitive sides before coming back up and heading to the edge of the water. Bofur tossed him a bowl and Fíli took out his beads and ties so he could wash his hair proper. While the dwarrows normally wouldn't be quite so open about it in front of each other, none of them wanted to be alone around the elves just yet. Even Glóin, one of the sticklers for tradition, was taking out his braids to get a good wash.

When it came time to get out of the water, Fíli waited until the ladies were gone to turn back toward the toward and climb out. Thorin, who was still rinsing his hair, shook his head at Fíli.

"Just talk to her," his uncle said.

"What do I say?"

"Anything. She likes you well enough if her actions are anything to go by. You quizzed Bilbo about her, use something he told you."

"Uh, right."

Kíli came up behind him and looped an arm around his brother's shoulders. "Come on, we can come up with a plan before we turn in."

It turned into most of the Company, minus the Urs, helping Fíli come up with a way to woo his love. Balin just shook his head and told him get simply be there for her. Freye was a simple lady, he insisted, one that would not swoon over his title or gold, but that was attracted to him for behind simply Fíli.

He went to bed even more confused than he had been.


	5. 6-1-2941, Rivendell

It was nearly lunch time and Fíli went to find Freye to bring her back to the terrace to eat. He knew she had been writing letters to the Shire but she was not in her room when he knocked. He went to where he had last seen Lindir and asked a few elves along the way. He caught up to her not far from where Lindir had last been.

"Freye!" She paused in her limp to turn around. He hurried over and reached out to steady her but pulled back when he realized she didn't need it. "Can I walk you to lunch? Bombur and Bilbo took over the kitchen and made some proper food for dwarrows."

Her face broke out in a smile and she said, "I'd like that."

"So, you're a master smith?" he asked. He played with the edge of his tunic, the one she had stitched actually.

"I am. Sigin'amad was my master though I had a few others come in and teach me other methods. Uncle Fothon even taught me a little and he taught Sigin'amad."

"He was the dwarf that stepped in for family, right?" Fíli asked.

"Aye. He died not too long after my parents. I think that nearly broke Sigin'amad, losing him and my parents so close." She paused to adjust her grip on her crutch. "He was the one that taught me how to make arrowheads the way I do. He learned just so Sigin'amad could learn how to shoot a bow from some cousins and he turned into one of the best."

"So he was kind of like a grandfather to you," Fíli reasoned.

"Yeah. I miss him. He told good stories and gave good hugs. Did you know he met Thorin's caravan when they were first headed for the Blue Mountains? He camped out by the road with Sigin'amad for days just for the chance to have her trained by someone with more weapons ability than him."

"I'll have to bug your grandmother for the story." Freye laughed and asked him about his trade. "Jeweler," he replied. "Though I can make knives too. Most of my knives are my own. Uncle made my swords. After a certain length the proportions start to get weird with me. I made these." He pulled a few clasps out of his hair and showed them to her. They were intricate, the details minute but defined. He put them back in his hair. "I work with leather too, though not nearly as much as Kíli. I like to make hair pieces that use both leather and metal."

"Too much smaller than an arrowhead and I start to lose detail," Freye confessed.

"Then you do the weapons and I'll do the jewelry, win-win," Fíli laughed. Her smile returned, though shier.

It didn't occur to him what he said until they were seated at the table but Freye didn't deny what he said either.

Kíli attempted to drag him into a food war, but after his slip up with Freye, he needed to get back into her good grace. He wanted to impress her, not make a fool of himself and be too forward. Why was love so complicated?

It didn't help when he found Freye with Lindir that afternoon. They were bent over a book and the elf had a vague smile on his face. His blood boiled at the sight. Freye was his One and he would fight Lindir if it came to.

He cleared his throat and called out, "Freye?" She looked up to see him in the doorway of the terrace. Her smile magnified at the sight of him. "Bilbo sent me when you didn't show up for dinner."

Embarrassment flushed her face as she closed her book and slid it into a pouch. "It's that late already. Oh my." She stood up and strapped the pouch around her waist and hobbled away from the bench with her crutch. "Thank you for your help Lindir."

"My pleasure, Lady Freye."

Fíli's blood was beyond boiling. Several curses came to mind but he held back. Freye reached him and they began walking. His silence and scowl did not go unnoticed.

"Fíli?"

"Yes?"

"Why did you look at him like he stole your favorite toy and is threatening to keep it?" she asked.

"I don't know what you're talking about." She stopped walking and crossed her arms, leaning precariously against her crutch. His eyes darted to the crutch, she really shouldn't lean on it like that. "Dinner, Freye." If he said much more he might say the wrong thing.

"I'm not moving until you tell me what is bothering you." It was a battle of wills, one that he lost. He sat down on a nearby bench. She hobbled over and joined him.

"I find I rather enjoy your company and that elf seems to enjoy your company as well. I do not want to lose you to any other."

"Fíli are you jealous?" No and you can't prove that I am, he thought stubbornly. "Oh Mahal. Fíli he was teaching me Sindarin so I could use these healing spells." She pulled the book she had put in her pouch out and showed him one of the pages. "Lord Elrond gifted it to me. He thought Óin might be offended if he was given more healing texts, but the apprentice of Óin, well I would more likely accept it. I was struggling with the pronunciation. My tongue is meant to speak Khuzdul, not Sindarin."

He was an idiot, a big fat idiot and his brother was going to laugh him all the way to the Halls. "Oh." His cheeks warmed and he cleared his throat. "Sorry."

"Don't be. I'm touched that you think so much of me to be jealous." Her smile warmed his heart and cooled his temper. "I think it's rather sweet."

The kiss on his cheek, just a peck really, was unexpected. She left him on the bench as he remained stunned. His fingers traced his cheek before he grinned widely and hurried after her. He had a chance after all.


	6. 7-7-2941, The Woods by the Carrock

It was official, Fíli detested all goblins and orcs and they could all burn in Mount Doom. The past day had been hell. He was glad to be away from trouble now.

They had barely made camp when Freye had declared she was going foraging. Kíli gave her a hand in making arrows out of what they could find around the camp. She also pulled out her shawl from her pack and tied it around her waist to form a small pouch. She insisted on leaving as Óin neared her side of the camp where Thorin was being treated. Thorin sent Fíli with her.

Foxes and rabbits had been easy to find. Fíli carried them on a line while they foraged for berries to add to the meal.

He saw his chance to address her wounds when they entered a small clearing made by several downed trees. He led her to one of the trees and sat, motioning to her arm.

"We should treat that." He knew the burns were under her sleeves, the ones she had shoved down while they were on the Carrock. Her sleeves were stained with blood, clinging to the burns. She tried to insist she was fine. He took her hands carefully, his hands steady and gentle, and looked her in the eye. "No it's not. I won't push you, Freye, but that needs to be bandaged." He hated how her eyes spoke of fear. He had seen the way she flinched when Bofur had hugged her, when Bilbo had patted her back. Fíli wished he could kill the Goblin King again. "Please. Just me and you. No need to get Óin involved. Here, away from everyone else. I won't judge you. I won't touch you unless you need my help. Just, please. You have to take care of yourself too." His hand just cupped hers. He didn't want to push her too soon, too fast.

After staring into each other's eyes for a moment, she nodded. He brought his waterskin out and she brought out her pouch. He watched her mix a paste and wash the wounds. He held himself back when she nearly cried. He promised not to touch unless she needed him. She held the paste out to him.

"Put it on thickly. Wash your hands first though."

He was thorough, more thorough than he normally was on the road, and then dipped his fingers in the paste. He coated the line of burns, gentle and tender. When he finished, she gave him the bandages. It was a show of trust and he knew it.

"Anything else?" he asked. He wanted to ask to hold her, to reassure her that everything would be all right, but he dare not ask. Not when she was so vulnerable. His hand was still cupping hers, his other hand resting with fingertips just on the bandages.

She leaned into his shoulder even after denying the need for anything. Her fingers wrapped in his coat, tugging him closer. He slowly wrapped his arms around her and put her head against hers. He gave her time to tell him no, to back away. Her shoulders shook as he kissed the side of her head.

"I'm here, promise."

When he kissed her head again, he tasted blood. He pulled back enough to see the spot where her mastery braid should have been. How could he have forgotten? He took some of the paste and worked it into the wound.

"This changes nothing," he told her. "You're still a master smith. You're still a dwarf. You are the strongest one I know and I will do my best to protect you better from now on. I'm here for you, always," he promised. She held on tighter. "Lay by me tonight? So I can be there...if you need me." I won't touch you if you don't want me to, not even a hug. Just let me be there, please.

"I think being with you will be the only place I feel safe," she replied. "Come on, we should head back."

As if the Valar were watching, that was when they heard the whining of an injured animal. They followed the sound to a clearing further from camp. He could only watch as she talked to the warg pup and freed it. It wasn't a vicious thing. It reminded him of the wolf pup one of the guards in Ered Luin had found and raised.

He was still surprised when it followed them back to camp and settled down by the two of them. When they laid down, the warg laid down behind Fíli's back and curled around the pair of them. It even moved its paws when Kíli settled down just outside of touching range from Freye. The warg then moved its paws pack, warm paws coming up to cushion Kíli's head.

It was a better night's sleep than he expected.


	7. 7-14-2941, Beorn's Home

The arrowheads from Freye were just the thing that Fíli needed to make his courting gift, if that was allowed. He took the arrows and hurried over to where Thorin was talking with Bofur and Bilbo about one task or another.

"Ready to make your gift then?" Bofur asked.

"I, yes. Can I use the arrowheads she gave me?" he asked the trio.

"I see nothing wrong with that," Bilbo replied. "It's just a way to show your care for her, in giving her the best gift you can with items she holds dear."

"And the family gift was already accepted," Thorin reasoned.

"Brynye loved it," Bofur confirmed. "Go on lad. Get to work."

"Thank you." He ran off to work in the kitchen where he was more likely to get some peace and quiet. He took time in measuring the headband out and then making a second layer. He placed the arrowheads on the first band, stitched them in place by putting a loop over the tip and the thin tongue used for mounting. He then put the other leather strap on top and traced the arrowheads before coming up with stylistic cutout designs.

The hours passed as he created the cutouts and the put the straps together. He did his best stitching, the stitches forming runes. They matched the cutouts that formed protection runes. He put a few runes in that were a declaration of love as well. Bilbo joined him at one point with a few sketches.

"Gloxinia and primrose. She'll know what they mean," Bilbo promised.

"Thank you."

He sketched the flowers onto the leather and then stitched them in brilliant colors, Beorn's thread supply being offered by the skinchanger when the project reached his ears.

When he was finished with his creation, he realized it was mid afternoon. It was time to show it to Freye.

The courting gift in return was a surprise. He should have known she felt the same.

Nori won the betting pool on the official getting together time, he had bet between lunch and dinner today after word that Bilbo and Thorin were courting had reached his ears. His reasoning? Fíli would realize he could act on his love now that Thorin had acted on his.

Dori threw him into the stream for that one.

No one saw Nori or Dwalin for a while after that, Dwalin having gone to help the thief out of the water after Ori pointed out Nori had worked extra hard that day and would be too tired to get out of the water, more likely just to soak in it than force himself out.

Dori rolled his eyes and muttered something about saps before going off to bed.


	8. 9-8-2941; Mirkwood

Fíli had felt his heart stop when the spider overwhelmed Freye mid fight. The creature had struck her hard enough that she had blacked out when her head made contact with the forest floor. He had rushed to her defense, even as the spider wrapped her in webs.

His attack was cut short as another spider got him from behind, the stinger injecting a painful venom that had him dropping to the ground.

His heart had barely settled by the time he realized he was free of the webs, Freye cutting him out as she made her rounds and kissing him soundly. He gave a smile even as he went for his sword.

“Go after him!” His uncle’s shout sent Freye and Kund loping away toward the screams of Bilbo. He hoped she would get there in time.

He also hoped she didn’t come back quickly. He stared at the arrow pointed at his head with hesitation. It really shouldn’t have been a surprise to finally encounter an elf in this Valar-forsaken forest. He was also not surprised to be chained, even when Balin tried to inform the group that they were here on contract for a group of elves from Rivendell.

Fíli really didn’t like the blond elf.

“Have you seen Freye?” he asked Kíli lowly in Khuzdul as they were shoved near each other to form a line.

“Not since she took off. Though I think I caught a glimpse of Kund’s fur,” Kíli replied.

“They’ll find their way to us and get us loose. Have faith,” Thorin reassured them. Fíli bit back his remark. Thorin was certainly going through the same worrisome thoughts as he was.

 

The dungeon was bright and inescapable even for a bunch of crafty dwarrows. He leaned against the wall beside his cell door, eyes looking out to see where the others were put. Thorin wasn’t with them, taken away to be interrogated surely. The Crown Prince sighed heavily and reached for one of his braids, the one Freye had put in place. He did not like being separated from her, not knowing if she lived or not.

“Do you require anything dwarf?” one of the elves demanded. A brown haired elf looked him over with indifference.

He did not trust the elf but he felt ill. Who knew what the spider’s venom could do? “Water. Feel like I’m burning up,” Fíli said.

“It will pass soon.” The elf motioned for one of his companions who brought a bucket with water. “Drink a cup and you shall feel better.” Fíli did just that. He noticed the others, ones that were looking slightly paler than the others, were receiving water at the elves’ insistence. He commanded them in Khuzdul to drink and they listened. “You hold sway,” the elf realized.

“Tell them to do something without a reason will get you nowhere. Reassure them that they will feel better after drinking, they will,” Fíli reasoned. “Thank you.” He handed the cup back and the elves let him be.

Not far from him, he could here Kíli hitting on the redheaded elf. Dwalin demanded to know what was wrong with the boy while Nori was laughing in his cell.

Thorin’s arrival caused a bit of a stir but his uncle was soon calm, calling out for Fíli. He could see Thorin standing against his cell door, looking his way. Fíli’s finger traced his braid as he turned toward Thorin a bit and answered the call.

“I was dragged out because others were coming, claiming to be of our company.”

For Fíli, that brought hope to life. If it was Freye, if she was safe and whole, he would be happy. Even if Freye was a prisoner like them, he would much rather have her back within sight than off somewhere facing dangers without him at her side. “Freye? Bilbo?”

“I suspect more than that if I was rushed out as quickly as I was. I think our friends have arrived,” Thorin told him. “Stand strong Fíli. You’ll be reunited soon.”

He could do that. If they were prisoners, Fíli would demand his intended be placed with himself or one of the Urs. If she was here to free them, well, he couldn’t wait to hold her in his arms again and hug her close. He was so deep in his thoughts he almost missed Dwalin demand Óin to check Thorin over for sickness. If only his mother could see them now.

When he heard Freye’s voice drift down into the dungeon, content if a little smug, he could have wept. She was here, safe, and about to free them.

Time crept as she approached. He heard Kíli laugh and Freye chuckling. The familiar sound of a head butt made him smile. Kíli’s soft reassurances that she was safe warmed his heart as well. His brother had already accepted her as family, and that was more than he could have ever asked for.

Freye opened the cell and pulled it wide open. Kíli latched onto his brother for a moment, relishing in the contact, and smiling at the impish grin the younger wore. He then snagged the key ring from Freye’s hand and handed it to Kíli.

Turning to Freye, he caught her around the middle and spun with her in his arms, mindful of the sheer drop in the dungeon. He brought her close, arms wrapping around her firmly as he leaned down for a kiss, gentle and reassuring. Her giggles made him smile into the kiss, her arms wrapping around his neck and pulling him closer. He moved on hand, coming up to cup her cheek and feel the warmth there. She leaned back, her hand brushing against his cheek.

“I was petrified.”

Fíli replied, “Aye, so was I. If you or Bilbo didn’t shows of being around by tonight, I would have told the elf to look for you. Every moment we were separated hurt. I feared the spiders had ambushed you once more.” He leaned forward again and kissed her softly before leaning his forehead against hers.

“You’re still courting,” Nori said from behind them. “You two do too much more and we’ll have to call this courtship improper.” Freye huffed but settled into Fíli’s arms until Kíli returned with the rest of the Brothers Ri.

The reunion in the stables was heartwarming. Seeing Bilbo reassured the Princes of Durin that he was safe and their uncle would remain sane.

Then Dwalin kissed Nori.

When did that happen? Fíli shook his head and imagined his next letter to his mother.

_Amad, you won’t imagine what I saw after our brief stay in the Thranduil’s dungeons. Dwalin kissed Nori. Dwalin, Mister I’m-upholding-the-law, was kissing Nori, Infamous-Thief-and-Dwalin’s-Bane, like there was no tomorrow. They’ve been doing this since the second time Nori arrested him! Amad, what has happened to the world?_


	9. 11-2-2941, Erebor

The sun had still to rise, the darkness tricking the preparing troops into a sense of security. Fíli did not feel the security. He had been woken early, his arms around his wife on what should have been one of the happiest nights of their life, by Kíli. His brother had roused both him and Freye. Freye changed and headed for Thorin after Fíli who, already in most of his battle gear, grabbed his last weapons and his chainmail before heading for his uncle. He had been told to prepare Kund’s saddle. Freye would have to ride to Dáin’s army.

Bofur was hauling the saddle over when he arrived. Fíli helped him put it in place and secure the straps. He gave Kund a good many pats, instructing the warg to look after Freye in the coming battle, while Bofur saw to it the warg ate.

Freye arrived all too soon. She shared goodbyes with Bofur before turning to Fíli. He pulled her close, hands on her waist, as he looked down into her eyes. He leaned forward for a kiss, a long one, one of her hands coming up to cup the back of his head. He put every feeling into the kiss that he could, promises of a long life and a love unconditional. She gave them right back before they pulled away and rested their foreheads together.

“You come back to me,” he whispered. It took all of his nerve to keep from pleading. “Haven’t even consummated our marriage yet.” The joke made her smile and chuckle slightly. “Haven’t seen the beautiful children we might have. Ones with your kind eyes and wavy locks and my blond hair.” _I haven’t seen you glowing and pregnant, complaining about the pain but grinning every time the baby kicks. I haven’t seen you verbally spar with annoying elves and just as annoying dwarrows. We have so much to do, please come back to me,_ he pleaded silently.

“We will have the days,” she promised. The grip on his head tightened just slightly. “When we meet again, you better be whole. I won’t forgive you if you die.” Mahal above, he could see the tears threatening in her eyes. He gave her a nod, _please don’t cry._ “Will you watch Bilbo for me? Trouble seems to find my cousin and I made a vow I would protect him on our journey. In my place, will you?”

 _Oh, I’m sure Uncle Bilbo will handle himself just fine, my dear. That letter opener of his is mighty sharp,_ Fíli mused. “As much as I can,” he answered. “I lead a flanking group of Men with Kíli. Bilbo is to help move the injured in from the battlefield. He’s rather good at dodging trouble in a warzone. Uncle does not want him on the front lines.”

“You know as well as I that Bilbo will find himself on those lines, fighting alongside the Company, even if he was only going to get a soldier.” Fíli agreed but he would never voice it, jinx it.

He raised an eyebrow as Freye took her hairpiece out and placed it on his head, using it to pin his unruly hair back and tying it in place. She kissed one of the arrowheads that shone through for good luck.

“Freye.”

“I will return for that and for you.”

Her kiss was quick, not lingering, before she mounted Kund and drove him from the mountain. He stared after her until she crested the nearby hill. A pit in his stomach formed. So much could happen before he saw her again.

_Mahal, Yavanna, Eru, please listen to my prayers. Grant me more time with my love. We have much to do after this battle. Please, do not rip us apart now._

 

* * *

 

  


His head rung, blood thrumming painfully loud in his ears as Azog dragged him to the top of the tower and called out taunts to his uncle. Thorin didn’t know Black Speech, right? Perhaps a few of the commands but not enough to understand the taunt. Why didn’t Azog just kill him already?

There was movement coming toward the tower, fast and low just out of Azog’s eye line but just inside Fíli’s line. It was a warg with two riders, one with long red hair and another with darker hair. The dark-haired one jumped from the warg.

“Kund, fetch!” drifted up to the tower.

The whistle of an arrow passing by his head silenced the orcs. Azog dropped Fíli over the edge, roars of pain echoing above him.

That was it. He was dead. The Valar had not listened. He wasn’t going to reunite with Freye. He was going to die from the impact.

“Got you!” The voice was accompanied by the sudden jerk to the side. He clutched whoever had caught him as Kund landed and they skidded to a halt. He was swung down to the ground, Tauriel looking relieved to have caught him.

“Fíli!” He was caught by his brother’s strong arms. Kíli knocked their heads together gently. “Not splitting up again.” Fíli chuckled and patted his back.

Freye jogged up to them, her bow sliding onto her back as she pulled her sword from the scabbard and offered it to him. He balanced it in his hand before pulling her tight with his free arm. His lips touched her forehead, feeling the heat there. She leaned into him and sighed in relief.

“Thank you my dear,” he said pulling away. She gave him a grin, pulling her axes from her back.

The battle continued, the orcs from the tower streaming out to fight the four of them. It could have been minutes or hours, Fíli wasn’t sure, as the battle dragged on. He caught sight of dark hair to his side just as an orc swung its club. Freye was thrown clear from the hit but threw a dagger at the creature. Fíli sliced its head off before running to her side.

The blood, so much blood. Just moments ago it had been him near death, now it was Freye. Why would the Valar give him such hope only to rip it away again? He cupped the back of her head with one hand while grasping the other.

_Please, anyone. Do not take her from me. I am not ready. Please._

He placed his hopes with the elves, perhaps they could save her.


End file.
